An Aggregation of Alterations
by MikoSlave
Summary: Oneshots Collection: Fanfiction of fanfiction series by murkybluematter: the Rigel Black series. Includes diverging situations, scenes that slide into cannon easily and completely AU figments of my imagination. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or murkybluematter's series on Rigel Black. If you haven't read the fanfiction by murkybluematter, please do yourself a favor and start reading The Pureblood Pretense. It's amazing.

(And yes, my story's own title is silly and based off murkybluematter's lovely titles which have alliteration.)

Summary: AU departure of The Ambiguous Artifice during chapter 12 when Harry has to take a month off by using her time turner due to said time turner difficulties. This is a version where Harry never found out about the Lamia Lodge and only really has three reliable places to stay and how that turns out for her. Focuses a lot on Rispah for reasons I don't even know. (Spoilers, kind of: how Leo finds out the truth.)

Warnings: Disgusting abuse of italics and dashes. Inconsistent styling issues. Just consistency issues in general. Random tense swapping mid-sentence. Grammar and punctuation mishaps. Speech patterns that don't match cannon characterization. You know, the norm for this kind of thing. Oh, and bad language.

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The Fourth Lodge

Harry scoured the paper again, but she'd read this one already when she found the room on Craftsman Alley and she knew she wasn't going to find anything new. She really couldn't afford to have her name and wand registered at the more expensive places. Perhaps she could go back to the Leaky Cauldron if she disguised herself well enough? It was a thought, although a risky one. Two people brewing the same noxious potion staying at the same place at the same time? That might make even old Tom a little suspicious. She didn't see any other alternatives, though.

She was placing the newspaper aside when the floo flared and Merriam stepped through. Harry smiled over at the other woman and got up to help her prepare dinner. There was a good hour left before the Polyjuice needed to be attended to anyway.

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Harry left the next morning after warmly wishing Merriam goodbye. The woman had smiled at Harry nervously, even as she handed her a muffin to take on the go. Harry awkwardly shuffled the invisible caldron so she could take the muffin. She should probably stop on the way to eat it so she had at least one hand free to defend herself if need be. She also needed to make a stop to prepare her disguise. She had planned to stop at another one of the disgusting public restrooms, but perhaps she'd make a stop in the Dancing District. It was close and on the way and there were plenty of private alcoves that she could use to eat, to take her aging potion and to change into her brown wig and blue contacts. It really wouldn't do to use her blond persona again so close the the Craftsman Alley where she got her other room. The Dancing District should be relatively deserted this time of day anyway.

She changed course, turning into one of the smaller alleys and, after casting her gaze around appraisingly, she turned back a week. She was careful to time it to the early morning when the alley would be similarly unoccupied. That done, she headed off again and a few minutes later she entered one of the the Dancing District's large gardened courtyards which was littered with private alcoves. She quickly made her way to one of the back corners away from the view of any windows where early risers could easily spy her. The area was thankfully empty and Harry set the caldron down after renewing the warming charm on it.

Just as she was biting into her muffin a familiar voice floated through the courtyard making Harry freeze. _Damn it_. She could hardly escape without being seen considering her position away from the courtyard entrances - and her invisibility cloak was rather occupied covering up her caldron already. Maybe if she skipped breakfast entirely and got her disguise on before the other found her, she would have a chance to slip away.

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When the Lower Alleys went through difficult times, the ladies of the court tended to bicker, meddle and fight their way through it and just generally make her job as Queen of the Rogue a bit more difficult than usual. Over the last three days, Rispah had broken up countless cat fights, crushed one burgeoning group threatening to revolt against the Rogue and spoken to several girls who had protested against paying any sort of tithe. Essentially, Rispah was having to _micromanage_ her section of the court and she _hated_ having to do that.

"I do not care what Lilia thinks. She never should have started a fight over a customer. If she's having trouble making ends meet, she comes talk to you or me. We aren't going to put up with this sort of crap." Rispah explained to one of the ladies directly under her authority, stalking across the courtyard towards the area Lilia's fight had decimated. "She's not doing any good throwin' fits."

"We aren't getting enough customers to cover the repair costs and this is her third strike already, I know." The other admitted. "But I don't wanna throw her to the wolves at a time like this-"

And then Rispah caught a whiff of _trouble_.

Was that the smell of _Polyjuice_? Rispah had already ordered the girls out of the area to take care of the fight damage. Nobody in the court, even now, was quite presumptuous enough to defy a direct order and then waft their disobedience so blatantly her way. Whatever the damage Lilia had done, this was just going to have to take priority. Schemes involving Polyjuice always spelled serious trouble and she wasn't going to put up with it in the heart of her territory. If she just ignored it now, she'd just have a bigger headache to deal with later on.

Rispah paused and then waved the other woman on. "We'll talk about this later," she assured her. "This might take a while."

It was simple enough to trace the potion's scent, and the foot prints, to the back corner of the courtyard. Crouched in a little alcove a young woman, probably just past the end of her schooling years, was digging through a small pack and looking altogether too frantic for this to be an issue Rispah would be able to settle easily. Still, one lass was a lot less concerning than a group so maybe she wasn't going to have to beat the sense back into anybody's heads today.

"And what, exactly, are you doing here? Hm?" Rispah clucked disapprovingly, somewhat amused when the girl flinched and dropped her pack. Then Rispah immediately forgot her posturing when the lass's head shot up and their eyes met and they were so _terribly green_ and _familiar_ -

Thankfully, the lass broke the odd tension between them before Rispah could analyze it too much.

"Ah, excuse me my la-" She halted and paused before continuing with an air of fake nonchalance. "I was just taking a break to eat. I'll be on my way soon."

To the lass's credit, her voice remained steady on her second try and there was a partially eaten muffin on the bench next to her. Her eyes, however, were now focused just below Rispah's own eyes and her accent was too proper to be from anyone but an outsider. This young'un was definitely hiding something. She sniffed the air again suspiciously. Yes, she was right the first time. This lass was the source of the Polyjuice odor, no question, and was doubtless more trouble than she wanted to deal with this early in the morning. Hell if Rispah was going to let this one wander in her territory without supervision, though, even if the lass didn't look like wasn't planning a coup.

The girl shifted and her gaze flitted past Rispah to the exit. That wouldn't do.

"Really?" Rispah drawled finally, leaning casually at the alcove entrance to cut off the lass's ability of escape. "You seem a bit lost. New around here?"

"Not exactly." She hedged nervously.

Rispah hummed softly as she observed the young woman. Clearly nervous, fairly well dressed and anxious as hell to get away from her. She didn't seem nervous about being in the Lower Alleys, though.

"Well then. I can escort you to your next destination. This is hardly a place for outsiders to go lollygagging about."

The lass looked horrified. "N-"

"Really." Rispah interrupted, casually cleaning her nail beds to help disguise how carefully she was watching the lass. "Where are you headed?"

The girl went rather suspiciously silent.

"Where are you staying?" Rispah prompted. "The Leaky Cauldron?"

"No." The lass answered slowly, clearly testing out her words before speaking them. "Although, I could use a place to stay." She gazed rather warily at Rispah. "Any suggestions?"

"The Leaky Cauldron." _Obviously._

"No. That's. . . not going to work."

"Craftsman Alley often has rooms-"

"No, not that either."

Well. That just about cinched it. She was taking this one to Leo to let _him_ deal with her.

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Well, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Harry didn't think this could get much worse unless Leo decided to waltz on over. And she probably should stop that line of thought immediately and not tempt fate right then. But she couldn't let Rispah take her to the Leaky Cauldron right now - not when she looked exactly like she had when she stayed there last time seeing as she had only barely had time to take the aging potion. And the Polyjuice was rapidly cooling off again so she didn't have time to wait around doing nothing and shake Rispah off by inspiring sheer boredom and there was really no chance of successfully running away. The Leaky Cauldron had been a bit of a long shot anyway-

"We'll need to see Leo."

Oh, hell no.

"You're obviously in some sort of trouble and Leo's the best one to handle these sorts of cases. Come on." Rispah made a casual waving motion for her to follow and Harry _could not move_.

She should have realized Rispah would take her to see Leo, but this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Leo could tell who she was by her magic - not her aura, but her actual magic. He had since the very first day she had met him and there was no way she was going to be able to fool him.

Rispah's cool gaze swept suspiciously over her again, which broke Harry out of her half panicky state. Well. Leo might not recognize her - _he absolutely would_ \- and there was no need to make Rispah more suspicious than she already was. Harry would rather not have a knife stabbed in her back if Rispah decided she was a threat.

". . . Just give me a moment."

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It took the lass a moment to finish eating the muffin and to pack away what she had been digging through. Then she stooped down and picked something up. Something invisible.

Rispah froze, wary. "And what's _that_?"

"Nothing important." The lass nearly radiated innocence.

If it wasn't the Polyjuice, Rispah would swallow her mama's favorite scorpion skin purse. A strictly regulated potion, one generally used for unsavory and illicit purposes, typically didn't count as _nothing_.

"Uh huh." Rispah muttered. "Well, Leo should be at headquarters. Just follow me."

.

"I'm, ah, sure his Majesty doesn't have time to deal with me." The girl muttered somewhat half heartedly about half way to the Dancing Phoenix. It was interesting that a high born lass would know about the Court of Rogues and know who Leo was, Rispah noted distractedly. "Maybe you could just direct me to the nearest lodging?"

Rispah scowled down at the girl as she peeked hopefully up at her through her bangs. And damn it if that wasn't familiar and she was struck again with the feeling that she _missing something_ \- "His Majesty has plenty of time to deal with troublesome things. That's what he's there for. We like to catch these things early so they don't snowball too much out of control." Rispah countered sternly. "And a lass with money that wants cheap lodging, but doesn't want to lodge at the Leaky is _trouble_."

The lass didn't protest that assessment and the remainder of the trip to the Phoenix concluded silently.

Leo was at one of the tables, going through paperwork that was doubtlessly the formal complaints from the shop owners that Leo had been complaining about earlier that week. Watching her cousin, the very one who had refused to do any school work because homework _would suck out his soul_ , deal with paperwork never failed to fill her with a sort of sadistic amusement. But she really had more important things to focus on right now than ribbing Leo.

"Your Majesty." Rispah greeted him when Leo looked up, using his title to let him know she was here on business. "I thought you'd like to meet this lass," she nodded to the girl hovering a few feet to her left. "She seems to be in a curious sort of bind."

The lass made a soft sound of protest as Leo began to scrutinize her. Then he stopped rather abruptly.

"Harry?" Leo sounded entirely incredulous. Rispah snapped her gaze back to the lass and _what the hell is Leo on about, Harry is an androgynous thirteen year old_ -

The newly dubbed Harry shifted uncomfortably before smiling weakly. "Hi, Leo. I may be," she paused when Leo started to scowl, "just a _teensy little bit_ in over my head? Maybe?" Leo's face settled into a blank slate, and damn it if that wasn't a bad sign, Rispah noted apprehensively. Harry noticed as well and continued, a little faster this time. "I mean, not with Rispah. And, ah- Actually, never mind, everything is under control and great and-"

"Harry." Leo was standing now. "The back rooms should be a little more private." He gazed sternly at her and she slumped in defeat. "And you're going to tell me everything this time."

Rispah decided now was a good time to escape. Past time, really. Leo would tell her what she needed to know later.

What she did know was that Leo's mood would either be much much better after this or much much worse. She hoped for everybody's sake Harry managed to improve his mood like she normally did. The Lower Alleys couldn't really handle a grumpier Rogue right now.

And since when the hell had Harry actually start to look like a _girl?_


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Harry goes shopping for shoes. Archie tags along. Fits into cannon of The Futile Facade as far as I know right now.

Author Note: After writing this, I realized potioneer shoes are probably actually treated with potions, not charms, since potions are usually unaffected by spell work, but bah. Whatever. I'll just change it later if I ever incorporate this into a longer fanfic story. I'm mostly just trying to get a feel for Harry and Archie's characters and their dynamic in this.

This snippet came out after reading about Harry's shoes in chapter 1 of The Futile Facade. Violet probably won't cover it again since, if Harry had any say in the matter, it would be a simple in and out purchase.

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Potioneer Shoes 

Harry had finally been forced to move shoe shopping to the top of her priority list when the sizing charms on her old shoes had worn out and her pinched toes started to give her foot cramps. It was annoying, but at least she could pick up some ingredients from Tate while she was out.

Archie had come along and pointed out the most impractical shoes. Harry ignored him and went straight to the fireproof, acid proof potioneer footwear immediately, ignoring Archie's groan.

"People are going to associate me with your bad taste, Harry." He murmured, sidling up beside her. He actually looked a bit frustrated, rather than the usual tolerant exasperation. It was true Archie had more fashion sense than she did, although an often eccentric one - that was Sirius's fault. Being associated with practical sense rather than fashionable whims didn't seem like a very bad thing, really, especially since at least one person in Britain -Hermione- would associate her with _im_ practical taste. That was almost an even trade. Still. Maybe she shouldn't completely dismiss it - for the facade if nothing else.

Harry put the shoes back and met Archie's puppy dog eyes with a carefully unaffected expression. "I'm not wearing something that doesn't have the basic potioneer safety charms." She watched, mildly amused, when Archie's expression cleared up with contagious excitement.

"You're not buying Clunky Blocks Disguised as Shoes, Version Two? Really? Because, really, Harry they look atrocious on you." Archie pulled her back over to the section of shoes he had pointed to earlier, shoes with feathers and scales and bright colors mixed in with the less eye-catching specimens. "We can just have the clerk charm the shoes for you. Or I bet you could do it if you want. Don't pretend you don't know how to cast the charms yourself."

She didn't, actually. Although she knew the charms in theory. She would have to look into that.

"Charms that are cast on the raw materials themselves are more potent, and therefore safer than charms that are applied on the end product. What if the charm started to wear out and I didn't realize it until a caldron exploded and acid ate through my feet?" Harry pointed out. And she refused to wear the green scaled monstrosity that Archie was eyeing. "The shoes in the potioneer section are guaranteed quality."

"And ugly." Archie quipped back, even as he turned reluctantly back towards her and the section with more _professional_ selections. "As if your caldrons ever explode." Archie added petulantly after a beat.

"Of course they do." She responded, surprised. Really, Archie had been there for some of her more misguided experiments when they were younger so he should know better. "It just doesn't happen as often anymore. I'm going to be starting free brewing soon, anyway, even if I wasn't interested in following important safety procedures."

They began to walk through the potioneer approved shoes on display. Most of them were a practical, shiny leather black that were similar to Harry's old shoes. Of course Archie was attracted immediately to the two pairs that weren't.

"No." Harry said sternly to the red pair Archie had lifted to present her with. The blue pair next to them wasn't awful, but it would clash with her usual black robes. "Let's just get my usual, Archie. They're not that bad."

"Yes they are." Archie sighed. He placed the red shoes back. "Can we at least buy some separate pairs of shoes for you to wear when you're not brewing? Maybe a nice suede green or something. We can add the charms to those if it makes you feel better."

Harry picked up the black shoes she had abandoned earlier. "I'm always brewing, Archie. When would I get a chance to wear them? I'm not going to carry a separate pair of shoes with me everywhere so I can change in and out of them throughout the day."

"Yes you are." Archie huffed. "My sense of taste and honor require no less. It's not like you can't just shrink and spell them weightless anyway."

Harry ignored him and went up to the counter. As the clerk was ringing up the total, Archie dumped a pair of said green suede shoes next to her purchase.

"Add these, please." Archie smiled sweetly as Harry turned to glare at him. The clerk wasn't nearly as immune to Archie's sweet, sweet smile and complied easily. Draco was right. That particular expression needed to be severely regulated.

When she made to leave to the Alleys the next morning, Archie had left breakfast early and rather pointedly hidden away her potioneer shoes. Well, at least Leo's ears would have a proper challenge today.


End file.
